Writing a poem is more than ending phrases with rhyming words; it’s more than expressing opinions on topics that interest you; it’s more than editing down to the bare bones so that your words resonate. A poem should feature a theme that comes from the bottom of the author’s heart. It’s the most powerful, but difficult, form of writing. To me a well-written, meaningful poem speaks from the beginning. I understand what the author needs to say; I feel what the author feels. This month we’re featuring the poem, “When Great Trees Fall” by Maya Angelou. It expresses how we at Cave Art Press feel about the passing of our co-publisher and friend, Don Douglass. Don was an all-around great guy. We will miss him. When Great Trees Fall by Maya Angelou When great trees fall,rocks on distant hills shudder,lions hunker downin tall grasses,and even elephantslumber after safety.When great trees fallin forests,small things recoil into silence,their senseseroded beyond fear.When great souls die,the air around us becomeslight, rare, sterile.We breathe, briefly.Our eyes, briefly,see witha hurtful clarity.Our memory, suddenly sharpened,examines,gnaws on kind wordsunsaid,promised walksnever taken.Great souls die andour reality, bound tothem, takes leave of us.Our souls,dependent upon theirnurture,now shrink, wizened.

Our minds, formedand informed by theirradiance,fall away.We are not so much maddenedas reduced to the unutterable ignorance ofdark, coldcaves.And when great souls die,after a period peace blooms,slowly and alwaysirregularly. Spaces fillwith a kind ofsoothing electric vibration.Our senses, restored, neverto be the same, whisper to us.They existed. They existed.We can be. Be and bebetter. For they existed.